Only If We Run
by GentlemanJimmy
Summary: (Formerly "Another's Eyes") Five years after Bullworth. Pete is attending art college in Manchester, New Hampshire, the biggest city near Bullworth, when he runs into an old friend in an unlikely place. Strangely drawn to his old friend, Pete doesn't know what to do. Will he and Gary become more than friends, or will Gary return to his old ways? Or worse?
1. Chapter 1

**Preface:  
I'd like to start off by saying that I know I'm late to the "Pete & Gary" party. It's been seven years, and I doubt very many people are concerned about what these two guys are up to, anymore, but the ones who are, that's why I'm doing this.  
**

**This fic is probably going to have more than a few problems. I don't consider myself much of a writer, I'm a visual artist, so if anything is off about my... writing mechanics(?), please just bear with me.**

**I don't know if anyone is actually going to read this, I also don't know if I will have the time to devote to this story, which is why I'm posting a draft of the first two chapters. If I get enough of a response, I'll know that clearly there is an interested fan base, and I will absolutely do my best to make this an engaging, awesome story.**

**If not, then at least I quit while I was ahead.**

**Regardless of what happens, I hope you enjoy these two chapters, at least.  
**

**And just a heads up, the title of this story will likely be changing, so make sure to follow me, if you're interested.**

**/1**

**September 7, 2013**

Pete Kowalski had no idea what he was doing in a place like this. it just didn't make any sense; the music was too loud, the air too thick, and - as far as he was concerned - the drinks were far too strong. He also felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, with everyone else dancing and having a good time. He had just needed a drink, and this was the closest place he could think of. He just didn't expect to be ending his week in a gay bar.

He kept reminding himself how much he needed this, though he didn't need to work hard. Losing his shot at an internship at the museum to that bubbly, blonde bimbo was the last straw, in a very long and disappointing week. Pete had been _sure_ the internship was his, without a doubt, but when he saw the way the girl had acted with their supervisor on the last day of interviews, he knew he'd been screwed. Or rather, _she_ had. he was guessing that was why she got in, over himself.

Losing the internship wasn't his only problem, however, as he seemed to also have "misplaced" his newly purchased, very expensive tablet. "Misplaced" it right into his roommate's bag, he was sure. He hated that he couldn't afford to live on his own, but until he found a job, he had to rely on what money his parents would send him. That, and the fact that they were paying his tuition at the art school was simultaneously a great help, and one of his largest sources of worry. But this is what he had wanted, more freedom, a chance to meet new people and see more of New Hampshire, and maybe break out of his shell a bit more, before he _really_ struck out into the world.

Of the latter, he could say he was successful... More or less. While he hadn't made very many friends outside of school, working on his art had freed him, in a strange way. This train of thought however, only led him to his biggest problem of the past two weeks, a painting he'd been having particular trouble with. A painting he was meant to enter into a gallery show at the school, before winter break.

His teacher's doing, of course. Pete would never be so presumptuous as to think that any of his work belonged in a gallery, but at Ellen's enthusiastic coaxing, he had agreed, believing her that it would help the school in the end. Now though, he was regretting letting her talk him into it, as he hadn't even the slightest idea where to begin, and with the deadline coming up so quickly, he was getting worried. He guessed it was the pressure to succeed that was blocking his creativity, that and the distinct possibility of failing.

Suddenly finding himself needing another drink, he turned to the bartender and asked for another beer. He hadn't particularly cared for the taste of beer when he had first tried it on his twenty-first birthday, but over the years it had grown on him considerably, and now he felt almost comforted when he had occasion to feel the cold liquid snake its way down his throat, quickly heating his insides.

As Pete waited for his drink, he felt someone walk up behind him. He brushed it off as only another patron, also looking to refresh their drink, or perhaps one of the sweaty men from the dance floor. That is, until they spoke.

"What is a _femme-boy_ like you, doing in a place like this?"

Pete recognised that voice instantly. Smooth, almost seductive, and always laden with sarcasm and mischief. Not to mention that there was only one person in the world who called him by _that_ name. _But it couldn't possibly be,_ he thought.

He turned in his chair to meet the voice, but all the preparation in the world couldn't have readied him for what he saw. Dressed in slim-fitting black jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a dark green flannel overshirt, sleeves carelessly pushed up around his elbows, was Gary Smith. He had known who he was immediately, but _seeing_ him, after all these years, was something he never could've expected. Seeing him in a gay bar, of all places, was distinctly surprising to Pete. He had always recognised the difference in himself between other boys, even if he didn't fully understand what that meant until his senior year at Bullworth, but he never would've imagined that he and Gary Smith could share something like this in common.

Pete couldn't get over how much Gary looked exactly the same as he remembered him. Granted, it was a bit dark in the bar, and from what he could see, Gary had slimmed down some, but for the most part, he was still the same tall, naturally muscular, devilishly handsome boy with a sly grin on his face, that Pete remembered from high school.

Then Pete realised he was staring.

"Gary", he managed to get out, sounding only slightly bewildered.  
Gary's smile only widened, "You remember my name, Pete. I'm touched" he said, his voice carrying the faintest trace of playful sarcasm.

"You really think I could ever forget you?" Pete asked, knowing as soon as the words escaped his mouth, that it was the wrong thing to say.  
Gary got closer, "Wow, I must've left quite an impression on you".

"On everyone. You almost destroyed our high school, remember?"

Gary only cocked his head to the side, and laughed under his breath, "Flattery will get you everywhere" he said, turning to look Pete directly in his eyes. It sent a shiver down Pete's spine. When Gary Smith looked at you that way, it was almost as if he was trying to see right into your soul, and honestly believed that he could do it.

Pete wasn't sure how Gary had recognised him so quickly in the dimly lit bar, or why he had approached him at all, but he noticed that Gary seemed to be very calm, in stark contrast to his Bullworth days, when he was all hectic energy and fiery stares. He wondered for a moment if Gary's time in the hospital had anything to do with his change in disposition.

Clearly not wanting the conversation to die, Gary slid into the chair next to Pete, "So you haven't answered my question" he said, as he motioned for the bartender. "What question?" Pete replied, feeling both confused at Gary's question, and a bit flushed at his sudden close proximity.

"What are you doing here?" Gary asked again.

Pete thought about it, for a moment. Truthfully, he had to pass the bar up ever day on his way to and from classes. He had never thought much of the place, as alcohol, loud music, and obnoxious people weren't really his favourite things. Tonight though, For some reason, he had been drawn to it. Whether it was out of convenience, or something else, he couldn't say, and he certainly wasn't about to strike up a conversation about fate with Gary. So instead, he went with what he felt was a safe response, and grinned at Gary, "I needed a drink".

Gary was unbelieving. "Petey, _no one_ comes here for the drinks". Pete winced internally at that nickname, but decided it was better than "femme-boy", and let it go. He also kicked himself for thinking that Gary Smith would make anything easy, particularly on him.

Though Pete knew Gary was right, and honestly, a part of him had come here looking for... companionship, he supposed was the right word, he wasn't about to give Gary the satisfaction of still always being right, seven years later.

"Well," he started, "seeing as it's my first time here, I guess you could say that was a mistake, on my part".

Gary's face seemed to light up at Pete's words. "It's your first time?" he asked loudly, "Why didn't you say so? Allow me to give you the grand tour!" Gary made a sweeping motion with one arm, while hooking his other around Pete's shoulder.

"There's where the desperate sluts go to drunkenly grind against each other" he said, motioning to the lower dance floor, "And there's where other desperate sluts go to drunkenly grind against _more_ desperate sluts," Gary pointed at the upper dance floor with the arm crooked around Pete's neck, before swiveling quickly in his chair.

Slapping his hands onto the bar, Gary continued his tour, "Here is where Tony there pretends that he knows what in the hell he's doing, with all that booze", the bartender - evidently named Tony - slipped Gary an unimpressed smirk and middle finger, as he helped two others on the other side of the bar. This seemed to amuse Gary, as he chuckled a bit before nodding his head toward the far corner of the bar, "And that is where all the desperate, drunken sluts go to suck each other off." Pete could see some signs in the area Gary was referring to, indicating that it was the restroom. He made a mental note never to use the restroom.

Pete turned to face Gary, who was now leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, clearly satisfied with his performance as tour guide.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this place" he said to Gary, with a slightly accusatory tone.

Gary stared out at the dance floor, "I come here at least twice a month, hoping for something new. But there never is. It's always the same losers, dancing with other losers. Getting drunk, getting high, going home and fucking each other," he continued, still staring at the dance floor "and then they come back the next night, and do it all over again!"

Gary's mood seemed to have darkened a bit, and Pete was now becoming anxious, memories of his time with Gary at Bullworth suddenly flooding his mind. When Gary quickly jumped out of his chair, Pete jumped a bit, only glad that Gary still had his back to him and didn't notice.

When Gary turned around, Pete could see a familiar gleam in his eyes. Not necessarily bad, but familiar. Gary reached out his hand to Pete, and gave him a crooked smile,

"Let's get out of here."

Pete couldn't think of anything better, as the music was starting to irritate him, and he had completely lost his buzz. He took Gary's hand and looked up at him with an eager "Let's". Pete paid his tab, then he and Gary grabbed their jackets, and headed out into the cool September night.


	2. Chapter 2

**/2**

Out on the sidewalk, Gary lead and Pete followed, just like old times. Only the two boys didn't seem quite as dramatically different from one another, anymore. It struck Pete as odd that he still considered the two of them "boys". It occurred to him that this might be because that was the way he remembered the two of them, as a couple of boys in high school. Not seeing Gary at all after he had been taken away to the hospital had frozen his memory in Pete's mind, and any time he had thought of him, his own frozen memory appeared right next to Gary.

In the orange glow of the street lights, Pete could make out more of Gary's features. He firstly noticed that his hair was more than a bit longer than he remembered. He still styled it in the same way, more or less, but the short bangs that had previously brushed just above his brow now hung low, level with his eyes. He was thinner than before, but not drawn, and Pete could also make out a light dusting of stubble growing around his mouth, chin, and jaw line. He wondered how often Gary had to shave, or how much hair the rest of him might have. The last thought made him blush a bit.

Gary's sense of style had also changed, from what Pete remembered. Though, as he couldn't recall seeing Gary in anything but his Bullworth uniform, he wondered what he had expected. His leather, moto-style jacket seemed perfectly fitted to his body, and gave him an almost James Dean quality. Pete also could see now, that Gary had his ears pierced. Not just pierced, but pierced the way he had seen some guys at school had done, with small, round things where a normal earring would be. "Plugs", he remembered they were called.

Even with all that Gary had changed about himself, the scar above his right eye remained. Lighter, now, but still refusing to let any hair grow along that one, small strip. Now that he wasn't sitting anymore, Pete could also see that he was no longer quite so small, compared to Gary. Gary was still taller, at slightly over six feet, but Pete wasn't far off, at five feet, seven inches. He imagined that Gary would've been disappointed in his post-high school growth spurt, if he had been around. Gary always did get such a kick out of how tiny Pete had been.

As Pete smiled at his memories, he saw Gary making some odd movements, as they walked. He came up beside Gary as he lifted his head up, freshly lit cigarette between his lips. Gary must've noticed Pete's expression, as he smirked and glanced at him.

"What's wrong, Pete?" Gary asked, that playful sarcasm coating every word.

Pete didn't exactly approve of Gary's new habit, but he also didn't feel it was his place to judge him for it. Especially after they had only just met again, after seven years. No, instead he decided to ignore the smoking, and ask Gary another question on his mind,  
"So where are we going?"

It was an honest question. Gary had started off in a direction as soon as they had left the bar, and Pete figured that eventually, he'd let him in on their exact destination, but they'd been walking for ten minutes without a word shared between them, and Pete was getting cold, and somewhat nervous.

"I know this great all-night diner, nearby" Gary answered him between drags, "I could really use some coffee."

"You like coffee?" Pete asked, a bit desperate to keep the conversation going, if for nothing else than to keep his mind off the cold.

Gary brought his cigarette up to his lips for his final drag, "Not really," He said, stopping to stomp out his discarded cigarette on the concrete, "But I'm feeling a bit wired right now, and it helps even me out".  
Pete accepted this answer, and was about to ask how far they left to go, when Gary suddenly spun around to face him, and continued walking backward, that crooked grin on his face. Pete couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh,  
"What?" he asked Gary.  
Gary narrowed his eyes at him, "You've been staring at my ass since we got out of the bar, " he sneered out "Something on your mind?"

Pete blushed, but stood his ground, "I have not been staring at your ass!" He said, laughing and looking away from Gary, who responded with a smirk and an "Uh huh".

Gary continued teasing Pete, "I've been walking for ten minutes, wondering when you were finally going to say something."

Pete opened his mouth to say something, but Gary cut him off, "At least say that you were enjoying the view, _something_!" Gary gripped the air, in feigned desperation.

Not about to take the blame for their lack of conversation, Pete playfully swatted his hands away, "_You_ just started walking! Didn't even mention where we might be going."

Laughing lightly, Gary bit his bottom lip as he looked at Pete, "I wanted to see if you would just follow me without question, just like you used to". Pete was blushing even more, now.  
"Actually," he started, looking Gary in the eye, "That's what I was thinking about. You know, the old days".

Gary raised his eyebrows, "Ahh" he replied, turning to stop at a corner.  
"Well," Pete went on, "more like just how different you are."

Gary gave him a sideways look, and Pete quickly added, "I mean, you know, different from how I... remember". Now blushing profusely, and impossibly embarrassed by his own words, Pete wished they would just reach the diner, already. Gary, on the other hand, was all smiles.  
"How different we _both_ are", he started, eying Pete up and down.

"I don't think I can call you 'femme-boy' _un_ironically, anymore."

Relieved that Gary hadn't taken offense to his words, Pete realised that Gary was right, he _had_ changed quite a bit since they last saw each other. Apart from being taller, Pete had also filled out a bit more. Not muscled by any means, he was also not as scrawny as he had been. His facial features had matured, as well, though the only facial hair he could grow was in a small patch underneath his chin, a fact he decided Gary didn't really need to know, just yet. As for the hair on his head, as curly as it had always been, there was never really anything else Pete could do with it, other than keep it shorn short. This didn't bother him, however, as he saw it as less fuss for him when he got dressed in the mornings. Looking down at his own clothes, Pete could see a definite difference there, as well. he was very modestly clad, wearing simple straight leg jeans, and a dark button down shirt, underneath a black zip-up hoodie, with a light jacket over that. This was himself to a 'T', he decided, modest and never too obvious. Although he wondered if that was sometimes a liability, rather than a virtue.

Glad to hear that his high school nickname no longer suited him, Pete smiled at Gary and said, "That's such a shame". Before Gary had a chance to reply, Pete looked at him expectantly "So, are we close by to this diner?" he asked him, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Gary answered smoothly, "Oh, we're here", and turned to his left. Pete looked over to see the diner, on the very corner that he and Gary had stopped at, several minutes ago.  
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked Gary, who turned to him as he opened the door, and gave Pete his most suggestive grin of the evening, "I liked watching you blush". Pete could only laugh, as he headed into the diner.

* * *

Shrugging off the cold, as he and Gary slid into a booth, Pete decided to take a moment to look at his situation. Here he was, sitting in a diner with a guy who made his entire high school life a living hell. Sure, Gary had been expelled and sent to an asylum near the end of sophomore year, but even after he was gone, Pete had still felt the reverberations of everything Gary had done. Done to him, and the rest of the school.

Gary had made it his mission while at Bullworth to keep Pete all to himself. Not in any romantic, or even remotely nice way, but more because Gary saw Pete as a toy. _His_ toy. Pete could recall numerous times that Gary had seemingly rescued him from getting beaten or teased, only to beat and tease Pete himself. Jimmy Hopkins had also played the role of Pete's 'guardian angel' from time to time, and while he wasn't nearly as bad as Gary had been, he got his fair share of abuse from Jimmy, as well.

After Gary was expelled, and Jimmy became much too busy with his new-found popularity, there was no one left to protect Pete, and he suffered for it. Because of Gary's odd level of attention to Pete, rumours had begun to spread all over Bullworth. Suddenly, Pete found himself the target of everyone who had ever seen the two of them together. Of course, he had known that the rumours were all baseless, Gary Smith _couldn't_ be that way. Or even if he was, he had certainly never shown any hint of actual affection toward Pete. Seeing Gary tonight, though, in a gay bar, Pete wasn't so sure what to think, anymore. Maybe Gary had always liked him, and all the teasing and violent behaviour was his mind's way of dealing with the confusing feelings. Whatever the case, he was finding himself very attracted to Gary Smith, but he knew that there were many questions he'd need to ask before allowing himself to truly accept those feelings.

A waitress came to their table to take their orders. Gary ordered his coffee black, extra sugar, and Pete settled on a glass of water. The waitress didn't seem to mind that they wouldn't be spending much money at the diner, and she smiled warmly at them as she assured them that she would be right back with their drinks, before heading back to the kitchen.

Pete looked over to Gary, who was now quite settled into his side of the booth, one leg propped up on the seat, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers. Now that he had removed his jacket, Pete could see that Gary actually had tattoos. One, a small feather running half the length of his left forearm, and the other a small black sparrow on his right wrist. Also on his right wrist, just below the sparrow, the brown leather cuff that Pete had seen him wear every day, without fail, all during high school. It was significantly faded and cracked now, but Pete decided that it added to Gary's overall mystery.

Again, Pete had been caught.  
"There you go, again" Gary said through a coy smile.

"What?"

"Staring."

Pete knew Gary was just having fun with him, but he also knew that he _had_ been staring. The last thing he needed, though, was for Gary to know that.  
"I wasn't staring," Pete started, "I was looking at your tattoos." Which was true, even if he was looking at the rest of Gary, along with his tattoos.

Gary glanced down at his arms, and held them out toward Pete, giving him a better look.  
"Oh yeah?" He asked.  
"Yeah" Pete replied, taking the opportunity to inspect Gary's arms a bit closer. "Do they have any special meaning?"

Gary presented his right wrist to Pete. "The sparrow," He began, removing his leather cuff, "I got him when I was released from the hospital. You know, freedom and all that shit." Pete couldn't help but smile at this, "And I mean the _day_ I got out," Gary continued "This was the first thing I did."

Pete gave Gary a smile, and replied "Cool."  
"Yeah" Gary answered back, replacing the leather cuff on his wrist.  
"What about the feather?" Pete asked enthusiastically. He was enjoying getting a peek inside of Gary's head, even if was only a cursory peek.

Gary turned his head to the side, and let out a small laugh under his breath.  
"That one... Well, it requires a bit more explanation." Gary was calm as he said this, and still smiling, so Pete figured it couldn't be that big of a deal. Just as Gary was about to continue, their waitress returned, coffee mug in hand.

After thanking her, Gary added more sugar to his coffee, before testing it with a small sip. Looking satisfied, he placed the mug back on the table before looking up at Pete, who had been watching him the whole time.  
"Their idea of 'extra sugar' is not the same as mine" He assured Pete, smiling.

Pete, however, was eager to hear the story of Gary's feather tattoo, and looked over at him, expectantly.  
"Oh, right" Gary started, "So, here's the thing; I know this is going to sound clichéd as fuck but, I'm _kind of_ in a band". Looking at Gary's face, Pete could see that he seemed almost _embarrassed_ to be telling him this. Not really knowing why, he decided to go with it. "Kind of?" He asked Gary playfully. This seemed to relax him a bit, the tension easing out of his face.  
"I'm in a band" He replied to Pete, his sideways smirk returning.  
"So where does the feather come in?" Pete was having some fun making Gary the bashful one, for once, but he was also genuinely interested, and didn't want to other boy to think he was poking fun at him. In an act that surprised both Gary and himself, Pete reached out to gently take Gary's left arm, turning it over to study the tattoo.

Gary was taken back for a second, but recovered quickly.  
"I play the guitar," He continued, attempting to ignore Pete's touch on his arm, "When I first started, I remember how heavy it felt in my hands. Not too heavy, but it had a... Presence. I knew it was there."

Pete was looking at Gary now, still holding onto his arm, and listening intently.  
"The more I played," Gary continued, "The lighter the guitar got, until one day I noticed that it seemed to weigh nothing at all, in my hands. That I was moving with every note and chord with so little effort, it was like the guitar was a part of me..." Gary trailed off as he looked down at Pete's fingers, which were now lightly tracing the lines of his tattoo. He looked up at Pete, searching his face with his eyes. Pete's touch was driving him crazy, and whenever he looked over at him, he was smiling and blushing way too much. They were _both_ smiling way too much. This was going fast, faster than he liked. _I mean, he showed up out of nowhere, tonight_, Gary thought to himself, _and I'm already..._ No, he wouldn't let himself go there, wouldn't do this to himself, not again.

Gently tugging his arm out of Pete's grasp, Gary looked up at him with a half-hearted smile.  
"Maybe we can pick this up another time" He said, before polishing off his coffee, and reaching for his jacket.

Gary's sudden change in mood was confusing to Pete, and suddenly he thought that maybe Gary thought he had been making fun of him. He thought he'd been nothing but sincere, but maybe an ill-timed giggle had slipped out, or a sideways look where there shouldn't have been one. Not wanting Gary to think he was an asshole, he tried to figure out what he could've possibly done.  
"If I said something-" Pete started, before he was cut off by Gary, who was busy leaving a tip for their waitress, "You didn't say anything, Pete" Gary calmly assured him, "I've just got some stuff to take care of, you know?"  
Pete seemed to accept this answer, and Gary was glad. The last thing he wanted to do was be an even bigger dick to Pete than he had, already. But he also had to look out for himself, and his own feelings, which were telling him that the night out was over.

As the two boys headed back out into the night, Pete couldn't help but worry. Despite what Gary had said, he felt sure that there was something he had said or done, to turn the mood so quickly. But then he caught himself, _Why am I overthinking this so much? Why am I so concerned?_ He began thinking. _I barely know him. Sure, I knew Gary Smith in high school, but this guy walking in front of me hasn't been _that_ Gary for a very long time._

Pete sighed to himself, as he made the decision to not let seeing Gary again go to his head. There were still too many unanswered questions, too many unknowns, and Pete had too many things to deal with at the moment, without piling relationship drama on top of it all.

As they reached the train station, Pete wondered if this would be the last time he saw Gary Smith. Gary had said that he goes to that bar about twice a month, but Pete sincerely doubted that he'd ever go back there, himself. The thought of never seeing Gary again was a little sad, but the possibility of running into him again as he had that night, somewhere, at some point in the future, excited him. It was good to know that Gary was out here, in the world, instead of locked up in some hospital.

Smiling again, he turned to Gary "So, should I give you my e-mail?" feigning a serious tone, and trying to hide his smile. Gary saw right through it. With a crooked smile, he reached for his cell phone, "Give me your number, Pete".  
As he and Gary exchanged numbers, Pete could hear the sound of the train approaching. Laughing as he and Gary took the same step, and nearly walked right into each other, Pete headed toward the stairs leading to the train platform, before he was turned around by Gary suddenly yelling "Hey, Pete!"

When he turned to look at him, Pete noticed that Gary looked uncomfortable standing on the street, his hands shoved awkwardly into his jacket pockets. He waited for Gary to speak, not particularly worried about missing his train.

Gary knew what he wanted to say, and he knew how to talk, and he knew English. So why was this so difficult? He cursed himself for ending what had been a perfect night, with a great guy, for lying to him, and now, for keeping Pete standing there, his train already leaving, because he couldn't get a simple word to come out of his mouth.

"Be safe" is what finally did come out, and Gary cursed himself again for certainly sounding like an idiot.

He looked up at Pete, who just smiled that smile of his and said "You, too", before disappearing up the stairs. His mind was racing, and all he could piece out was, _Not again, not again_. Staring at Pete's number on his phone he thought, _Well... Maybe not _yet.


	3. An Update

**The influx of positive responses has been pretty amazing, as well as unexpected. Some of the reviews I received aren't here, because I didn't realise I had my account set to moderate guest reviews, and I apologise for that.**

**I started this story as more of a writing exercise for myself, but since I uploaded it a little over a month ago, I haven't been able to stop thinking about where it could go, and what I could do with it.**

**So, that said, I've decided to keep it going. I've changed the title, because I hated the previous title, and I've changed the rating from T to M for language, violence, and possible sexual situations to come. I hope this isn't too much of an inconvenience.**

**Give me a few days to get back into the swing of things, and I promise I'll have this fic back on track.**


	4. Chapter 3

**/3**

Gary watched Pete's train leave, and stayed there on the sidewalk for a bit, long after he could no longer see the lights of the train. He lit up another cigarette, then climbed the stairs to the platform to wait for another train.

_Why_, he thought to himself.

_Why couldn't I spend just one more minute with him in the diner?_

_Why didn't I walk up to the train platform with him? We were both getting on the same train._

_Why did I say 'Be safe'?_

Gary had no answers for himself, other than the same answer he'd always come to, _Because this is the way I am_. It felt like a cop-out to him, accepting his own actions as involuntary, and chalking it up to "just because". But Gary knew that his own mind was a place where no one wanted to go - least of all himself - and for him, self analysis was particularly dangerous. Even with his medications and therapy, Gary still felt like an animal wearing a human's clothes. The feeling was less pronounced than it had been in high school, and because of that, he was able to function in the world, with other people. Or, at the very least, understand why a person would want to function this way. But along with that semi-freedom, came another new feeling: self consciousness. Gary had always been _aware_ of himself and his actions, but seldom if ever, cared what anyone thought about either. Until he met Peter Kowalski, that is.

Having a clearer mind had long ago helped Gary to understand that the way he had felt around Pete, was the way he was supposed to feel all the time. People generally expected him to act with some amount of compassion, and the few years after leaving the hospital when he had failed to do this, were the worst years of his life. Most people look the other way when a child or teenager does or says something inappropriate to a situation. When an adult does the same, it's not only acknowledged, it's emphasised.

When he had left the hospital, Gary had suddenly found himself in a place where people not only expected certain behaviour from him, they _demanded_ it. Usually with terrible consequences if he refused. Sticking with his old ways of doing things worked for him, for a while, but soon Gary had come to the realisation that whatever he had been, whatever Bullworth and his parents had allowed him to become, was not something that could exist out in the real world. Through trial and error, numerous lost jobs and failed relationships both friendly and romantic, Gary was forced to accept something he'd known since the day he was expelled from Bullworth; he needed help. Not the "help" he had gotten from the other hospital, which was more like a temporary prison, but real help. And he was sure it would work this time, because he had actually _wanted it to._

The train arrived, and snapped Gary back to the present. He stepped through the doors, and quickly found a seat. This particular train line was pretty empty at this time of night- or morning, Gary corrected himself, as he glanced at his cell phone and noticed the time. Settling into his seat for the ride, Gary wondered if Pete had made it home safely, and considered sending him a text message. Quickly deciding against that, and not really sure why, he settled for watching the buildings pass by through the train's windows.

When the train finally made it to his stop, Gary stepped off and lit a cigarette. Deciding that he wasn't going home, he headed for the small recording studio he and his band mates rented, where he spent the rest of the morning hours trying and failing to write new songs.


	5. Chapter 4

**/4**  
**September 9, 2013**

Pete woke up a good thirty minutes before his alarm was set to go off, as he usually did. He started his morning routine just as he always did, changing into his jogging pants and a light hoodie, brushing his teeth, and running to the park nearby. He completed one lap around the rather large park, and then ran back to his apartment. It was about a fourty-five minute run, and it prepared him for the rest of the day. In Pete's mind, if he could run for fourty-five minutes at five-thirty in the morning, before a full day of class, he could handle anything.

Getting back to the apartment, his routine continued with a shower, getting dressed, and having a quick breakfast. He knew having a set routine like his every day was probably boring to some people, but it helped him focus. He also knew that he had always been like this, and just couldn't imagine living life minute to minute, as some people did. As Pete opened the door and stepped out, his foot hit something on the ground, sending him toppling into the hallway. When the thing that tripped him started making noise, Pete immediately went to help, thinking it might be a sick neighbour, or perhaps a homeless person that was injured.

Then it starting swearing at him, and he knew exactly who it was.

"Son of a bitch! What the hell's your problem?" Pete could hear the muffled curses of his roommate Julia - or "Jules" as she insisted some people preferred to call her, even though Pete had never actually heard anyone call her that - as she struggled to free herself from her coat that had become entangled and interwoven through her arms, and around her head. Taking only a moment to enjoy Julia's current situation, Pete unwound the knot her sleeves had made around her body, and watched as Julia was finally able to remove the coat.  
When she finally saw who had tripped over her, a sheepish "Oh... Hey, Pete" was all that she could manage.

Pete rolled his eyes and got to his feet, before extended his arm to help Julia up.  
"Let me guess," he said to her, "You lost your keys again?"

"Almost," Julia replied, as she brushed her brown hair out of her face, "I know exactly where they are, I just don't... have them."  
"You know I have a cell phone, right?" Pete asked, as he watched Julia attempt to smooth her hair down. "You could've called, I could've let you in."  
Julia gathered her coat and purse, and then turned to Pete, one hand-held out in front of her. When Pete looked down at what she was holding, he had to hold back his laughter. In Julia's hand was her cell phone, broken into bits.  
"The cab driver ran it over" she said to Pete, and then noticed he was trying desperately not to laugh at her.  
"It's not funny, you dick!" she yelled at him, and half-heartedly smacked his shoulder with her purse. Julia couldn't keep up the act, and within seconds was laughing right along with Pete.

"I'm really sorry, Julia" Pete said, as his own laughter died down, "Can you afford to replace it?"  
"I'll figure something out," She replied, already tossing her shoes and coat into the apartment. "Now if you don't mind," she continued, "I really need a shower."  
Pete glanced at his watch, "Okay, I've got to get to class," he said, heading down the hall, "I'll talk to you later!"

* * *

The walk to his school was one of Pete's favourite parts of his day. The path he took led him past the nearby art gallery, where he got to see all of the artwork by various local artists, some of them students at his own school. The pieces placed in the windows changed every week, and it was interesting to him to watch the different trends and styles come and go. His path also took him past a small bakery that always happened to be baking the day's breads and pastries just as he was passing by. If there was one smell Pete would say he could never live without, it was the smell of fresh-baked bread. Not being much of a cook or baker himself, he relished in every chance he got to smell it.

The last stop on his trip was the park. Not the much larger one that he would run around every morning, but a smaller one nearer to the center of the city. This park was a devoted arboretum, and even in the fall, the trees were a beautiful sight to him. It was always a perfect way to start his day. On this day, though, Pete was having trouble enjoying his walk. There was something on his mind, blocking everything else out.  
It was Gary.

Despite telling himself that he wasn't going to dwell on his run-in with Gary Friday night, Pete had questions. Questions he had spent the whole weekend trying to silence, while he futilely attempted to work on his big art project for Ellen's gallery. Questions only Gary Smith could answer. Seeing Gary again, seeing how different he had become, stirred up something in Pete that he had tried to suppress all throughout their friendship in high school. Back then, he couldn't allow himself to _like_ Gary. Struggling with his feelings for other boys in general was difficult enough, but having the focus of those feelings be a guy like Gary was too much for him to handle. It was made all the more difficult by Gary never making his own feelings or intentions clear. It wasn't until Friday night that Pete realised Gary was probably struggling to understand those feelings himself, just as he was.

That was the past, though. Now, Pete saw no logical reason to continue denying something he knew was true; he _liked_ Gary Smith. He wanted to spend time with him, get to know him, learn everything he had missed after Gary was expelled. He wanted to hear his band play, wanted to hold his hand, he wanted to _kiss_ him...  
Pete had apparently been lost in his thoughts deeper than he realised, because as the last thought entered his head, he had run into Ellen. Pete looked up to notice that he had made it into the school without realising where he was. Ellen was saying something to him, but it took a moment for Pete to recognise the words.

"Are you okay, Pete?" She asked, with a sincere look.  
"Oh, uh, yeah," he replied, finally able to hear and speak again, "Just, um, a long weekend".  
Ellen gave him a knowing smile, "Well, you look pretty tired, so it must have been the good kind of long".  
Pete smiled at that. Ellen knew he was gay, and wasted no opportunity to inquire about his love life, lacking as it was.  
"Maybe," He said to her, small laugh.  
"Well," Ellen continued, not missing a beat, "I just want to let you know, we're already seeing a tremendous response from the students, for the gallery show in November. Many of them mentioned you, specifically, as the reason they'll be attending".  
Pete had to fight back a groan. Not because he wasn't happy that his artwork was so appreciated, but because he was uncomfortable with the level of responsibility that had been thrust on him. Expectations for this show, and for Pete himself had been set so high already, and they were only getting higher with some students saying they were coming specifically to see _his_ work. Had he really built up that much of a reputation at the school? He didn't think his artwork was any better than any other student's. Well, maybe some of them, but certainly not enough for his own space in a gallery show. Ellen was talking to him again, and he had missed half of what she'd said.  
"... Just know that you're going to be great, and do great things!" Glancing at her watch, Ellen told Pete she had to get to her classroom, and Pete waved goodbye.

Pete thought Ellen was a nice woman. A bit out there, maybe, but she was an artist and art teacher, so it suited her. She had a bit of a problem with meddling, but Pete knew her intentions were good. Pete enjoyed her class, because she was always working on something new, and would often leave unfinished canvases and sculptures around the classroom, as she was working on them. They were always space related, really everything she did was tied into space, somehow. Planet and asteroid sculptures, supernovae paintings, even her clothing shared the theme. Ellen would often come to class wearing a skirt over tights that had some kind of spacey printing or pattern. Even her hair clips and accessories had little stars or planets on them. She was easily one of the most interesting people Pete had ever met. Except for one person...

_No_. Pete said to himself, angry that he kept letting Gary slip back into his thoughts.  
_If you have to like him, fine_, he continued his conversation with himself, _but he's not taking over youre entire life again._  
_You have important stuff to do, today. You've got an important life now, this isn't high school anymore._  
Pete continued rallying himself, as he made his way through the school's lobby.  
_Just focus on something else_, He told himself, searching the walls for something to take his mind off of Gary.  
_Focus on... The championship announcements for the local college football team? No, that's boring._  
_Gym membership flyers? I hate gyms..._  
_Okay, what about the people?_  
Pete scoured every face in the lobby, looking for someone, anyone else to train his focus on.  
_What about that girl wearing jeggings? Actually, she looks pretty comfortable._  
_How about that weird guy at the information desk? The one that totally looks like- Oh my God, it's Gary!_

Not knowing what to do, Pete instinctively made a sharp right turn toward the bathrooms. He didn't exactly know why he was running from Gary, why he didn't just talk to him, but he also didn't know why Gary would be here in the first place. Pete couldn't recall telling him what school he was attending. He found his way into the bathroom, and headed for the sink. He suddenly felt very warm, and needed some cold water for his face. This was too much stress, too early in the morning. His classes hadn't even begun, and he was already overheating, and freaking out in a bathroom. And it was all Gary's fault.  
Pete sighed.  
No, it was his own fault. That night at the bar, he didn't have to be so friendly with Gary. If he hadn't been, Gary wouldn't have invited him to the diner. Or, he could've stayed out of the bar altogether, and avoided the whole mess. Pete was about to dry off, and head back outside, when he heard a quite creaking sound. Lifting his head from the sink, Pete fully expected to see another student walking in, and honestly didn't care if they saw him like this. What he saw instead, was Gary Smith, quietly closing the door behind him.

Pete nearly choked on his own breath. "Gary!" he said, a little too loudly, "What- um, I mean, what brings you here? To my school?"  
Pete was having more than a little trouble getting his words out, while trying to convince Gary that he hadn't been trying to avoid him, but Gary saw right through it, standing in front of the door with his arms behind his back, and legs crossed in front of him. And of course, that mischievous look on his face, that was currently both terrifying Pete, and giving him an erection, which only terrified him more.

Gary suddenly pushed himself off of the door, and started walking slowly toward Pete.  
"Right," he began, looking directly into Pete's eyes, "You _didn't_ see me at the info desk, and turn the corner so fast, I thought you were going to leave the planet's atmosphere."  
Gary continued slowly walking toward Pete, who was doing his best not to throw up all over himself.  
"And that's why you're hiding in the bathroom, sweating balls into a sink."  
As he finished, Gary propped himself up on the sink directly next to Pete, "That about right?" He asked, that hint of sarcasm so familiar to Pete. Swallowing hard before letting out a nervous laugh, Pete looked up at Gary,  
"It- it's not sweat, it's um- water" He stammered out, "Water."  
When Gary narrowed his eyes at him, Pete couldn't keep up the facade,  
"Okay," He let out, with an exasperated breath, "I did see you, and I did come in here because I saw you, and that is why my face is wet." Gary attempted to comment on Pete's choice of words, but Pete wasn't finished yet.  
"And I know all of this looks like I was avoiding you because I didn't want to talk to you, and that's because it's true."

Pete heard his last words come out of his mouth, but was hoping he hadn't actually said them out loud. Looking at Gary's face, however, he knew that he had. The playful, curious look that was on his face had disappeared, replaced with another that Pete knew well and dreaded seeing, the look of being betrayed.

"That's... not really what I meant," Pete stammered out, suddenly hating himself.  
"It's just..." Pete looked into Gary's eyes, his own eyes trying to convey the earnestness his words couldn't, and hoping that Gary would pick up on it. When Gary's features softened, he knew he had succeeded.  
"It's just," He continued, "I see you, and I think of high school. I think of everything I had to go through, for you and _because_ of you. Even after you left, my life was never normal" Pete caught Gary's arm, as he finished his thought, "Not that I'm blaming you for any of it. I just... I can't go back. Back to the way it was, back to the way... we were."  
Pete was staring at the ground now, hoping so hard that he hadn't offended Gary, that it was starting to hurt his stomach. When he finally heard Gary's voice, it almost made him jump.

"I know I fucked up, Pete." Gary said quietly.  
"I can't tell you why I did the things I did. I can only tell you... that was a long time ago," He looked away from Pete, as he tried to come up with words that would, that _could_ express how sorry he was, how sorry he had been for years. And how angry he was with himself.  
"A _long_ time ago." Gary continued, "And I'm not... the same." He looked over to Pete, who had know turned his attention from the floor, to Gary's eyes again. Gary returned his gaze, and forced every ounce of sincerity he had into his next words.  
"I _won't_ be the same."

Realising that this conversation was heading somewhere it shouldn't be, Gary quickly pushed himself off of the sink, and moved away from Pete, who had nothing to say in response to Gary's words.  
"This is pretty deep for what, only the second time we've seen each other?" He asked Pete wryly, trying to cut the seriousness in the air.  
Pete waited a moment and cleared his throat, before answering quietly, "You're the one who came here."  
"Hey, I only came to see a friend," Gary playfully shot back, "You were the one bolting down hallways."  
Pete took the bait, and looked up at Gary with a unbelieving smirk, "Oh, really," He started, slowly walking toward Gary, "A friend?"  
"Of course," Gary replied confidently, then reached into his back pocket for something. "That, and I saw a few of these plastered outside."  
As Gary unfolded the piece of paper and held it up, the knot in Pete's stomach got even tighter. The paper Gary was holding was a school flyer for the upcoming art gallery, and at the center was Pete's picture, and his name in bold letters. He was listed as a "special contributor". He knew it was Ellen's doing, and like everything else she did, he knew she meant well. He just wished she had asked him, before posting his face all over the school.  
Gary turned the flyer to face him, "I think you look pretty good." Pete glared at him sideways, which got him a crooked smirk from Gary.  
"So when was I gonna get an invite to this shindig?" Gary asked, refolding the flyer, and stuffing it back into his pocket.  
Pete rolled his eyes, "It's not until November, Gary. And if I thought you were interested, I was going to tell you." He checked himself in the mirror, before turning back to Gary, "Do you mind if we get out of this bathroom?" Pete was already amazed that no one had walked in on their conversation, and didn't want to push their luck any more.

"How about this," Gary started, as they were exiting the bathroom, "You come to my band's show Friday night, and I'll come to your little artfag circlejerk?"  
Pete bit his bottom lip to hold back a laugh, because he knew Gary was just trying to get a rise out of him.  
"Well when you put it like that, how can I say no?"  
Gary gave him a bit-too-firm smack on the back, "That's the spirit!" He said, and then quickly added, "Don't you have a class to go to, or something?"  
Pete's face dropped as he scrambled for his cell phone. When he saw the time, he realised why they hadn't been interrupted, classes had started twenty minutes ago.  
"Oh, shit!" Pete let out. Gary put his hand to his chest in feigned surprise, "What was that, Petey?"  
Ignoring him, Pete gathered his things, "I've gotta go. Uh, I'll talk to you later!" he said, rushing past Gary. Gary managed a wave, but he was sure Pete hadn't seen it. Their conversation was over, Gary had gotten what he wanted, so why did _he_ feel like the one left out?

* * *

The entire day had left Pete exhausted. When he finally got out of class, all he could think about was sleep. The walk home that stretched before him seemed endless, and he was sure he'd end up passing out in the street somewhere.

As Pete started his walk, he checked his cell phone out of habit, and noticed that he had three unread text messages. Both were from Gary. He touched the notification to open the first message, which read:

_"You forgot to ask where the show is._  
_It's at that gay bar we met at."_

Pete furrowed his brow and opened the next message:

_"Just kidding._  
_It's at the Acre. If you don't know where that is,_  
_just let me know, and I'll give you the directions."_

Pete _didn't_ know where it was. He had never even heard of a place called "Acre" before. But he decided he'd ask for the directions tomorrow, and opened the last message:

_"Later, stud. ;)"_

Gary knew what he was doing to Pete, but Pete couldn't say that he really minded. He did like Gary, and the fact that he was so different than he had been gave Pete hope that something real might happen. When he saw the winking smiley face, an image of Gary winking at him immediately entered Pete's head, and he got a warm feeling in his stomach that spread through his entire body. Before he knew it, he was home. In bed and still thinking of Gary, the warm feeling moved lower, and he could feel himself getting hard. Too tired to do anything about it, Pete decided he could settle for dreaming of Gary. For now.


End file.
